Stepping Back
by Zara-Rose
Summary: Short one-post Chlex piece.


Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or any of its characters. Though I'd like to borrow them for the time being, I promise to return them. Third Eye Blind performs the song "Jumper."  
  
Rating: PG-13 for subject matter (see author's notes)  
  
Pairing: Chloe/Lex friendship  
  
Summary: Songfic to Third Eye Blind's "Jumper" in which Lex reevaluates life. Chloe plays an integral part in his thought process.  
  
A/N: This piece deals with the issue of suicide. To anyone considering this course of action, though I do not know your particular circumstance, I understand how bleak things look. But, I want you to know that there is hope. There is always hope. Please don't be afraid to ask for help finding it. To those who are trying to help someone battling suicidal thoughts, the road is often rough. Have faith; your mere presence makes a difference. And to those who came in looking for a good Chlex fic, please do not be turned away because of the subject. The characters might be slightly OOC, but I needed to take artistic liberty to make the fic work.  
  
Title: Stepping Back  
  
* * *  
  
The angry boy, a bit too insane  
  
Icing over a secret pain  
  
You know you don't belong  
  
You're the first to fight  
  
You're way too loud  
  
You're the flash of light on the burial shroud  
  
* * *  
  
Lex's PoV  
  
It is nearly dusk. The sun is dipping low over the Kansas horizon, giving the sky a beautiful, reddish hue that is rapidly changing to purple. I survey the panoramic landscape before me. It's breathtaking, really. I sigh softly in wonder, knowing it is the last sunset I'll ever see. I have an odd sense of peace in regards to what I'm about to do.  
  
I'm at Loeb Bridge, where I first met Clark. I know now that I hit him with my car that day, three years ago. I'm certain of it, though he hasn't trusted me enough to tell me the truth. It hurts that after all this time, he still doesn't trust me. But, I expected this reaction, so ingrained by his father, and I understand. After all, I'm just a Luthor. But no on, not even Clark when push comes to shove, can see past the Luthor name. They don't want me here. I don't blame them. I don't want me here either.  
  
I'd been standing on the bridge, leaning over the barricade as I surveyed the town of Smallville. Now, however, I find myself climbing over the barricade. I hear a car in the distance, quickly coming my way. I wait, my legs dangling high above the water, for the car to pass.  
  
* * *  
  
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend  
  
You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in  
  
And if you do not want to see me again, I would understand  
  
I would understand  
  
* * *  
  
Chloe's PoV  
  
I have no place to go. It's only the middle of summer vacation, but I can't wait to start classes at Metropolis University. I went out to get coffee, but Clark and Lana were at the Talon and Pete was nowhere to be seen. So, I'm driving along the back roads of Smallville in a last-ditch effort to find something that'll relieve my boredom. I'm coming up on a bridge, and being the slightly superstitious person that I am -- everyone knows that if you make a wish while crossing a bridge, your wish will be granted within one year -- I slow down to make a wish. I would've missed him completely if I hadn't slowed down. The familiar bald head of Smallville's most eccentric billionaire gleams in the fading sunlight. That's when it hits me. He's sitting precariously on the edge of the barricade. One false move, and he'll plummet to his death.  
  
I'm speeding away from the bridge when some small part of me wonders if that's the point. I slam on the brakes. Without even bothering to turn around, I throw the car into reverse and back up. As soon as I've shifted into neutral and set the emergency brake, I jump from my car. It's still running, and I left the door open. But I don't really care about that right now. Lex looks like he's about to push himself into the icy water below.  
  
I'm scared. I've never been around a suicidal person before. I don't know what to say, or what to do. Without really having a firm game plan in mind, I lean against the barricade just a few feet from Lex. I notice that he immediately shifts himself to sit more securely on his perch. We sit in a not-quite-comfortable silence for a few moments.  
  
"It's beautiful," I hear myself say, referring to the last vestiges of sunlight dipping below the horizon.  
  
He sighs heavily before answering. "Yeah."  
  
We lapse into silence once more. I watch Lex from the corner of my eye. His perfectly constructed mask seems a little cracked tonight. The veneer that normally conceals his emotions is flawed. I can see lines etched on his face where he is too young to rightly possess them. He's only twenty- four, yet he seems so much older.  
  
In the darkness of the early evening, it dawns on me. This man needs a friend -- someone who will see him for who he truly is, someone who won't run from his faults, someone who will trust him, someone who will love him. I want to be that friend. Moving slowly, I inch closer to Lex. Gently, so as not to scare him, I put my hand atop his.  
  
He turns and looks at me. I raise my head and meet his eyes. So often, I wear my snarkiness as an armor. It is my self-defense. But Lex has seen that side of me before. As I let him study my face, my concern for his well-being is evident. After a few moments, I see the hard lines around his blue eyes soften ever so slightly. It is only for an instant, but I am able to get a glimpse of the emotions this man has kept buried. The pain, caused by years of betrayal, deceit, and utter loneliness, assaults me. I feel his anguish as clearly as though it were my own. Then, the moment is over, and his mask is back in place. To my surprise, though, Lex turns his hand over and squeezes my fingers.  
  
"Come on. I'll give you a ride home," I offer.  
  
Lex ponders this for a minute before answering. "Sure," he says.  
  
The drive to the mansion is silent. Not even the radio is making noise. I pull up to the front door to let Lex out. He's about to climb out of my car when I put my hand on his forearm. "If you need anything, Lex." I trail off.  
  
He nods once in understanding.  
  
"Anytime. I mean it." And I do. I hand Lex a piece of paper on which my cell phone number has been hastily scrawled. I don't know what he's been through, or where he's going, but I will be there to support him. I hope he'll trust me enough to ask for my help when he needs it.  
  
* * *  
  
Well he's on the table  
  
And he's gone to code  
  
And I do not think anyone knows  
  
What they are doing here  
  
And your friends have left  
  
You've been dismissed  
  
* * *  
  
Lex's PoV  
  
It's been nearly two months since that night on the bridge. I still wonder if Chloe knew, in some way, what she interrupted that night. Part of me is so thankful that she was there. But then, there's this other part of me that hates her for it. That part has gotten stronger lately.  
  
When it comes to business, everyone knows that I'm as cocky and confident as a Luthor should be. But there's more to life than business. I'm very good at pretending. I don't think anyone would know what to do if I let them see who I really am. I am a bitter, hollow, shell of a man. This town's refusal to accept me was expected, but it cuts me deeply every time. I hate being associated with the Luthor name, but that's what I am. Maybe I detest the association so much simply because that all I am in their eyes.  
  
I'd thought perhaps that Chloe would be different. On the bridge that night, she startled me by coming back. I didn't think she'd even noticed me. Then, when she took my hand and showed me her concern -- she was concerned about me -- I let my guard down. Chloe saw me for who I really am, all my fears and insecurities, and she didn't run away screaming.  
  
However, I haven't seen or heard from her since that night. I know that classes have started at Metropolis University. I know that Chloe is a journalism student there. I know that she's very busy with school. But it hurts that she hasn't so much as dropped me an email. It reeks of abandonment, of which I am secretly terrified.  
  
I idly wonder if she'll miss me when I'm gone. I doubt it. I've discovered that, in the past, people I briefly associated with carried an air that said they knew me, yet I know they never bother to keep in touch. They're probably afraid they'll tarnish themselves. Just once, I'd like for someone to be willing to dirty their name for me. I want to be worth someone's reputation -- not taken because of some underhanded deal I'd made to deliberately ruin someone, but given freely out of loyalty to me. I long to be wanted, not desired for sexual pursuits or money, but as a worthwhile human being.  
  
I'd thought that perhaps Chloe would be that person. But I was wrong. I don't know what her intentions were that night, but she'd never understand. I suppose that's why I'm here, in my library at the mansion at two o'clock in the morning. The entire staff has been dismissed for the night. I have Fyodor Dostoevsky's "Notes from the Underground" -- which begins, "I am a sick man. ... I am a spiteful man. -- in front of me, along with enough sleeping pills to knock out a horse and a bottle of vodka. Slowly, almost methodically, I begin to swallow the pills with swigs of the alcohol.  
  
I'm holding the last pill in front of me now. The first ones are beginning to take effect. I feel woozy, and I know it won't be long before I pass out completely. A sudden panic fills me. I had to get to this state before I realized that I don't want to do this. My breathing sounds shallow in my ears. The room spins in a dizzying manner as I dig out my cell phone. She said I could call her anytime, and I just hope she meant it. From memory, my fumbling feelings punch in the numbers I learned nearly two months ago.  
  
"Chloe, help," I hear myself say when her sleepy voice answers. My tongue feels thick, and my words are slurred from the barbiturates I've consumed. I think I rattle off what I've taken and where I am before darkness overtakes me.  
  
* * *  
  
I never thought it would come to this  
  
And I, I want you to know  
  
Everyone's got to face down the demons  
  
Maybe today, we can put the past away  
  
* * *  
  
Chloe's PoV  
  
I storm through the doors of Smallville United Medical Center. The scent of disinfectant hangs heavily in the air. I am slightly out of breath after having sprinted to the door from the parking lot. It is just after four in the morning. Lex's call woke me from a sound sleep, but I listened carefully to what he told me. There has been a tightly controlled ball of panic nestled deep within me from the time that I heard what could have only been Lex's body falling to the floor. I didn't wait for the line to go dead before I phoned 911 and relayed to the dispatcher what Lex said. Then, I'd waited. I stayed on the line until the dispatcher confirmed that an ambulance had taken him to Smallville's only hospital. At that point in time, I'd jumped in my car and driven straight here. The three-hour drive from Metropolis to Smallville took me just under two hours.  
  
"Where's Lex Luthor?" I ask the woman sitting in the nurses' station. She looks sadly up at me, and for a moment, my heart stops.  
  
"You must be Chloe."  
  
Not trusting my voice, I merely nod.  
  
"Follow me, please." She is a kind, older woman who reminds me of Mrs. Kent. We walk down a long hallway as she continues to tell me about Lex's condition. "The EMTs who arrived at the scene immediately did what they could to stabilize Mr. Luthor. Once here, a team of nurses and doctors were able to successfully pump his stomach. It wasn't easy, though. He flat-lined on the table, but we were able to resuscitate him."  
  
My head is spinning. Lex had actually died, but they'd managed to save him. My mouth feels dry as I asked, "And now?"  
  
The nurse puts her hand comfortingly on my shoulder. "He's stable. But as for the long run, we honestly don't know. Mr. Luthor has not regained consciousness. We don't know if he ever will. In truth, it depends largely on him, his will to live."  
  
I am stunned. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I close my mouth and try again. "May I see him?"  
  
"Of course," the nurse replies. "We don't normally allow non-family members to visit at this hour of the morning, but under the circumstances."  
  
"Thank you." I open the door she has led me to and step into the room. I hear the door close softly behind me. It is a private room, one of the nicest in the hospital.  
  
My eyes are drawn to the bed; more specifically, to the unnaturally pale man lying on it, covered only by a thin sheet. As I approach his bedside, I see that he is shivering slightly. There is a blanket folded neatly at the foot of the bed. I unfold it and drape it over his still form, pleased to see his shivering subside immediately. A chair sits a few feet from the bed. It's not the most comfortable of things, but it'll have to do. I drag it over so that it's right next to the bed and plop myself down in it.  
  
I take Lex's big hand in both of mine, careful not to dislodge the IV. He is pale, even more so than usual. I'd given Lex his space after that night on the bridge, but I'm beginning to think it was the wrong course of action. I want to be a friend to him, but I don't know how.  
  
"I'm sorry," I whisper to Lex, not knowing if he can hear me. A single tear makes its way down my cheek. I move to brush it aside, but instead put my head down on the mattress as more tears come. The exhaustion, intensified by the last few hours' adrenaline rush, finally overcomes me. I feel my eyelids grow heavy and give in to sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
Can you put the past away?  
  
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend  
  
I would understand  
  
* * *  
  
Lex's PoV  
  
I feel like the LuthorCorp jet landed on me. Everything hurts, and is that the unique odor of hospital disinfectant I smell? I struggle to open my eyes -- they're quite heavy for some reason -- and take note of my surroundings. This is indeed a hospital; my body lying on the bed, clad only in a hospital gown, confirms the fact. The window on the far side of the room tells me that it is just after dawn, though on which day I'm not sure. I try to bring my hand up to rub it over my scalp, but find that I am unable to do so. I turn to see why, and I see her. Chloe Sullivan is sitting in a chair next to my bed, her head resting on my hand. I work my hand free, careful not to disrupt her slumber. What would bring Chloe Sullivan to my bedside? We haven't spoken in nearly two months. I fiddle with the IV in my hand, pondering the events of the last few nights. A horrible idea strikes my mind.  
  
"Lex? You're awake!" Chloe's sleepy voice interrupts my thoughts. My hand had found its way into her unruly mop of golden hair. I must've woken her up.  
  
I am actually afraid to ask Chloe what happened. She seems to sense my demeanor, but she doesn't pull away. "Did I-? How did I try-?"  
  
"Sleeping pills and vodka," she answers.  
  
I'd feared as much. "Were you the one who found me?" I asked carefully.  
  
"No. I was in Metropolis. You called me. I came as quickly as I could." Her voice has lost the sleepy quality. For the first time, I notice her tear-stained face and rumpled appearance.  
  
"I'm sorry," I whisper. Never in my life have I meant those words as much as I do now.  
  
"I know," she says, just as softly. I expect her to look at me with pity in her eyes, but she doesn't. Instead, she takes my hand, which had dropped back to the bed, and kisses my palm. "I'm not going to pretend I understand why you did it, but I want you to know that I'm happy you're still here."  
  
Her words touch me deeply. I feel a lump rising in the back of my throat, and my eyes are becoming moist. I want to answer her, but I have no voice.  
  
"The rest of the world might look at you and see nothing but a Luthor," she continues. "But I don't. I see you for who you are, Lex, and I want to see more. But you have to let me in. Let me be your friend, Lex. That's what I'm here for."  
  
I know that the moisture that had been clouding my vision has spilled over onto my cheeks. I also know that I don't care. I launch myself into Chloe's arms, burying my face in her neck, to sob unashamedly. Her arms are wrapped tightly around me, her hands gently rubbing my back. I know that I have a long road ahead of me. But she has promised to walk it with me. Her strength has given me the courage I need to take my first step.  
  
END 


End file.
